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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29496666">Meteor City: White</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChainSmokesPens/pseuds/ChainSmokesPens'>ChainSmokesPens</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Meteor City (ChainSmokesPens Series), Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fantasy, Flash Fic, Heroes &amp; Heroines, Multi, Superheroes, Supervillains, Urban Fantasy, Villains</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:55:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,897</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29496666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChainSmokesPens/pseuds/ChainSmokesPens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Meteor City, epicenter of a world-rending event two centuries prior, is a bustling metropolis. Heroes roam the light, villains wander the shadows, and everyone else is just trying to get home at the end of the day. When a world is saturated in heroics, whether you align yourself with good or evil, with law or chaos, or choose to stand in the middle, the only thing you can really do is live.<br/>This is how the residents of Meteor City work for the weekend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story, like much of my writing here, was taken from prompts that I found online. Having seen so many different superhero prompts, I decided to congeal them all into one universe. It won’t make a lot of sense, but it will be fun to write. I hope you enjoy!<br/>Prompt: [WP] It’s not easy, superhero therapy. Especially when most your patients can kill you as an afterthought. Still, you won’t let anyone sully your perfect track record.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At six in the morning, Lieberman lumbered to his office, his cup of coffee nearly empty but still piping hot, his keys slipping from his tired fingers. “Dr. Julius P. Lieberman” was etched into a bronze plate on the door, embroidered by carvings that resembled climbing vines.</p><p>Doctor, he mused. It was easy to get a title if you were doing a job no one wanted.</p><p>He stuck his key into the lock and twisted it. This opened the hatch next to the knob where he had to enter his password onto a pad.</p><p>Passwords were purged every month, so he would need to make sure to set a new one before the end of the night. The requirements that the password be no less than five hundred characters long, include three different discernable languages, and utilize eight different number combinations interspersed evenly throughout had killed his love for every song he found easy enough to remember and modify for this purpose.</p><p>He entered his password, a heavily mutilated rendition of “It’s a Beautiful Morning”, performed the retinal scan, and provided a hair and saliva sample. The unseen mechanisms of the door could be heard whirring and clicking.</p><p>The frame cracked open, and Lieberman entered his office.</p><p>“Sanctuary,” he said. The lights turned on, reflecting painfully from the steel walls that filled the office. As the gears continued to work, pulling the plates into their respective slots in the walls, ceiling, and floor, Lieberman contemplated what his schedule would look like today.</p><p>Eclipse would be his first appointment at seven. Being nocturnal, the end of her day was the beginning of her therapist’s. It was easy for them to reach the conclusion that an hour and a half in the morning worked best for her.</p><p>He just hoped she wasn’t bleeding out this time. The once-white carpet of his floor was irreparably dinged from all the people who thought that just because Lieberman specialized in the psychology of heroes, he didn’t mind having them come in drenched in their—or even someone else’s—blood.</p><p>At nine, he’d meet with Kid Dynamo for two hours. He didn’t like therapy and made no effort to hide it. However, his parents wouldn’t let him move to the city if he didn’t learn how to get his anger under control.</p><p>And there was no telling how upset they’d be if they knew their son was a vigilante. Confidentiality was Liberman’s specialty, and, having raised three teenagers into productive adults, he had no trouble communicating with the boy.</p><p>The only concern he had for him was how handsome he was; and how handsome he knew he was. He was going to begin school at the University of Alcides in the Autumn, and the last thing Lieberman wanted was another distraction for his granddaughters.</p><p>Once the plates were fully hidden—with additional concealment to their slots in the form of draping plants, Lieberman made his way behind his desk, pulling a mug from his cabinet, and began preparing more coffee for himself.</p><p>At noon he’d meet with Bombshell, one of his few villain clients. A decade ago, she’d graduated from the University of Alcides to begin her work as a pharmaceutical laboratory technician. However, when she was unimpressed with her starting salary, she began the slow decline into villainy.</p><p>Her ability to generate explosions from affection was terrifying. With her titillating choice of costume, she would turn those aroused by her into living bombs, threatening to detonate them unless they met her demands.</p><p>After turning herself in and serving five years for her robberies, she was now on probation and had to attend therapy as part of it. She’d thought to do Lieberman a favor, donning heavy clothes and thick glasses, avoiding make up and not doing her hair, to keep him as unattracted to her as possible during their sessions.</p><p>Unfortunately for Bombshell, Lieberman liked his women a little frumpy.</p><p>He sat at his desk and looked over his paperwork and groaned in disapproval.</p><p>At three he’d meet with Izzy Newton, the child genius who alleged to be from the future, said outlandish things that he claimed his therapist wasn’t smart enough to understand, and laughed mockingly when Lieberman did things like sneeze or scratch his beard.</p><p>At four thirty, Brigit Myers would come for her twice-weekly session. The fact that she had sixteen different personalities with unique needs and issues made handling her a challenge, but from her sessions alone Lieberman was able to buy his daughter a new car for her birthday, so he wouldn’t complain.</p><p>His last session was at seven, with Carnelian. It unnerved Lieberman how, listening to the complaints and worries from the otherworldly general of Meteor City’s most dangerous crime syndicate, he found a kindred spirit in this client. Their chats were pleasant, often times going on a bit long, but were always a bit spiritually fruitful for both of the men.</p><p>Lieberman’s musing was interrupted by a knock at his door.</p><p>“Come in.”</p><p>It was Eclipse, her uniform tattered, her eye blacked, saturated in the off-color blood of something, who said, “Good morning, Dr. Lieberman. How’d you sleep?”</p><p>The doctor watched as alien blood stained his white carpet—again. He kept himself from sighing, gave his client a polite smile, and said, “Safely, thanks to you, Eclipse.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Power-Teacher Conference</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Writing Prompt: [WP] You love your job as a teacher at a kindergarten. Sure, sometimes it can be a little difficult helping the children control their supernatural ability but overall, it’s a great experience.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Veronica struggles not to press her temples; she didn’t want to give her guests any reason to think she was opening this discussion ill-tempered. She was only the teacher’s aide. Why was this her responsibility?</p><p>Being a kindergarten classroom, and due to mismanagement of the school’s budget, Veronica and her guests sat on tiny chairs, circling a miniscule table stained with paint and crayon drawings of penises.</p><p>She’d talk to Jeremey’s father about the penis drawings later.</p><p>Directly before her sat two of her students, Reggie and DJ. As a consequence of his blossoming powers, Reggie looked more like his father every day. His skin was freckled with violet splotches along his nose and where they weren’t his tan skin was beginning to sparkle with stardust. His hair was black and curly, taken from his mother, and had yet to be touched by his father’s gifts.</p><p>DJ, on the other hand, looked exactly like his father. His head was hairless, covered in deep red plates oh his scalp, eyebrows, and chin. At the top of his head his horns were beginning to grow in and at the base of his spine his tail was beginning to bud. His eyes were verdant, with slit-shaped pupils that stayed focused on the table, trying not to make eye contact with anyone else at the table.</p><p>Behind each boy, almost comically seated on the miniature chairs, were their fathers. King Cosmos kept his broad arms folded, forcing his muscles out as he stared intently at the father beside him. Veronica had hoped he’d go shirtless, as he tended to do, exposing his purple flesh, his broad shoulder blades that could crush boulders, skin that shimmered in places that patterned the constellations. Instead, regrettably, he chose to dress appropriately for the meeting, sporting a dark polo and tying his ever-floating hair back into a stable pony tail.</p><p>His eyes were locked with those of DJ’s father, Cretaceous Commander. He, unlike his violet adversary, did go topless, exposing the various large plates and spines adorning his chest and the smaller ones that covered his gut. It was thick, but muscularly thick. His powerful legs strained against his jeans and combat boots, and his tail sat heavily on the alphabet carpet.</p><p>In the depths of her heart, Veronica wanted these buff dads to sandwich her, but would happily settle for having this meeting go smoothly instead.</p><p>She adjusted her glasses and spoke. “I’m sorry to bring you both in on such short notice. I know you’re both busy men.”<br/>
“You don’t need to worry,” King Cosmos assured, redirecting his eyes to the teacher’s aide. “As long as the Commander is here there’s one less bank being robbed.”</p><p>Cretaceous Commander scoffed. “Please, you think an A-lister like me is out robbing banks like some sort of middle-management goon? Don’t try to belittle my role just to impress your sack-seed, pussy.”<br/>
Veronica choked on her words before deciding to let them come out. “Please…can we watch our language in front of the children.”</p><p>The dinosaur man shut his mouth in realization, before saying, “You’re right. I apologize.”</p><p>They both turned to King Cosmos expectantly. “Yes?”</p><p>“While you didn’t swear it doesn’t do the children any good to have someone insinuate their parent is guilty of a crime.” Even leaving her mouth, Veronica had to admit it was absurd. The Commander was undoubtedly engaged in criminal conspiracy at the moment.</p><p>However, it was important to keep politics out of the children’s heads. Children of villain were bullied too often for who their parent were. And the most notorious bullies were the children of heroes. That’s why this meeting was called.</p><p>“Reggie had started a fight with DJ on the blacktop. Apparently, they got riled up when the other kids were wondering whose dad could beat who in a fight.”</p><p>The two men turned to each other before turning back to the teacher’s aide. “I’d beat him,” King Cosmos assured.<br/>
Not committing to agreement, Cretaceous Commander said, “I’m the underdog in that fight.”</p><p>“The winner of a fight doesn’t matter. What’d important is that we not allow the children to take their parent’s grievances out on each other.”</p><p>“I assure you,” King Cosmos began, mist rising intensely from his frame, “I would never condone senseless violence from my son. I’m raising him to become a noble hero. Who knows what the Commander is teaching his child.”</p><p>The reptilian father bared his sharp teeth at the accusation. “The only thing I’m raising my son to be is a good Christian boy. I don’t need him to follow in my footsteps. He said he wants to play soccer when he grows up.”</p><p>The hero looked at him quizzically. “With your muscle structure and the mass of those plates? Doubtful.”</p><p>“Sir,” Veronica interjected, “we don’t dismiss children’s dreams.”</p><p>King Cosmos looked sharply, his gaze switching between the aide and the villain. “Then maybe people should get more realistic dreams. Clinging to delusions before having reality call is what leads innocent people down the path of roguery.” He turned to face DJ, who receded into his father’s strong hands. “However, considering this boy spends only half his time with his father, he has a lesser chance of being corrupted.”</p><p>A heavy silence weighed down the air. Looking at the Commander’s eyes, Veronica could see them shimmer from withheld moisture.</p><p>He spoke up. “You know what?” He scooped his son into his arms. “You’re right.”</p><p>He turned to Veronica. Looking at this mountainous man, his young son held tightly to his chest, nearly made her heart leap from her throat. “I promise to have a talk with my son about his behavior. Thank you very much for your patience with him. Regardless of how he acts sometimes, he always speaks highly of you.”</p><p>“No problem,” Veronica said. She prayed she wasn’t blushing.</p><p>“Junior,” the man began, leaving, “you wanna go see a movie?”</p><p>DJ cheered in approval.</p><p>Veronica watched his back as he left, her dreams of a King-Commander sandwich leaving with him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>King Cosmos turned into a little more of a dick than I initially conceptualized him as. Still, I think he'll work better this way than as an objective paragon.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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